When All We Seabees took the stage at Exit/In Saturday night, singer Bryan Fox was wearing a jacket. It was plenty cold outside, and some of that chill had made it inside the club. Or, as a friend put it, "It's fucking freezing in here." And indeed, the whole band looked like they were dressed for a wintry night rather than a rock show, which prompted a (different) friend to express her pessimism about the level of rocking she was about to experience.
That reminded me of a thing someone once wrote about a band I played in. The Stranger used to have a feature where they sent someone to review a band they had never heard before (an inspiration, of sorts, for this blog's Pop My Cherry feature). Let's just say it was cold the night Jeff Deroche came to see us.
(I post this at the risk of seeming self-serving--which I may well be--since he pays me a compliment at the expense of my former bandmates.)
You knew it was going to be mellow when Getter [F]lash drummer Joel Stedman and cellist/bassist Marta deLeon began last Thursday night's set in jackets. Eventually their outerwear came off, but the entire show was chilly and slow-moving. The players looked down at the floor a lot, and singer/keyboardist Lisa Johnson often appeared as though she had been hung up from behind on a hook.
And you thought The Spin was cruel!
But it's true: Outerwear, when worn indoors by rock musicians, does not project rock 'n' roll badassness. Dressing appropriately for the temperature says, "I'm a sensible person," rather than, "I'm a total badass of rock 'n' roll music." Of course, one does not always wish to convey rock 'n' roll badassness, but one is always conveying something, whether one wants to be or not. All We Seabees don't convey rock 'n' roll badassness, per se, but that's not really what they're about. And I enjoyed their set nonetheless, especially when someone got Fox to crack up during the beginning of "Bruin Hunt," a.k.a. the song about Catholic girls.
Incidentally, I'm a water sign.